


A matter of mortality

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: A bar, Alien Language, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Developing another plot? Nope, Gen, Humor, I can't tag it, Like, Not Really Character Death, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017), The ending had to stick, This is what I was brainstorming after I left the movie, because there is no way to describe it, just jump into it, not on my watch when writing one plot for a short story, this was getting so long and away from the point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-30 08:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10872828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter





	A matter of mortality

>   " _You'll become one of them!"_
> 
> _"What's so bad about that?"_

Gamora was tending to a plant that she had embedded in the encased green house. It had been years since the defeat of Thanos, long since her days of saving the galaxy, and watching her colleagues grow old. Mantis and Dax were somewhere, out there,  in space doing something that was on the verge of illegal and perhaps legal. She didn't recall where they were last time in the previous message that Dax had sent. Her once, shining bright red hair was curled and grayed resting on her shoulders. Her green skin was coated in wrinkles while she sat in a chair in a hover-chair. Nebula had exact her revenge for all the things that Thanos had done. She sent messages regarding her successes (ones who Peter left the room because "I shouldn't interrupt in sisterly bonding.") and showed what she had taken from the abusers. It wasn't the slightest unnerving these days to see her sister, happy, not bitter.

"How's the plant today, Gamora?" came Peter's voice. 

Peter came out of the back door holding a large plant in his hands that was inside a pot. He to be unaged compared to her well aged figure. The firing red hair. He was in the same red jacket, maybe not, she couldn't tell if he had purchased a new one in the past hundred some years. She offered a quick assessment while turning the plant in the direction of the sun. Her health was failing in the past few years. Peter was the one who stuck around her. Nebula hadn't aged for various reasons pertaining to what Thanos had done to her body. Nebula was running around saving abused little girls with the help of Groot. Rocket died a few years after the end and he was burned into space. Peter placed the large plant in the empty space in the green house.

Peter came to the woman's side placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay, Gamora?" Peter asked.

"I am fine,"  Gamora said, she looked over toward the man. "but you should be elsewhere."

"There is no place I rather be with you,"  Peter said. "If this were a tv show where a guy's true love was killed off and the show was renewed for another season, people would stop watching."

Gamora's small, green wrinkled hand grazed to the side of his face with a kind, softened look on her own.

"My time on the show is ending," Gamora said. Peter's eyes grew emotional.

"Don't say that," Peter lowered to her level.

"Peter. . ."  Gamora said. "you belong in space. Not planet side."

Peter softly smiled, as her hands clenched his own.

"Wherever you are, that is where I belong," Peter said. Peter placed a kiss onto the older woman's forehead then leaned back away from her. She weakly stroked the side of the man's cheeks, softly, as memories flashed before her eyes of knowing him and being with him. Her brown eyes stared at the youthful, young man almost ripped out of a movie. There was a certain glow radiating off around him.

"I am thirsty," Gamora said.

Peter held his hand out and in a glow blue of blue light appeared a cup in his hand with ease and tranquility. Gamora reached her trembling green hands forward gripping the cup. Her grip began to weaken. Peter wrapped his hand around her own helping her steadying it. She was his world. All of it. All that was left of it. Kraglin was leading the Ravagers whistling merrily in space with the arrow following his lead. Some days Peter thought that he heard Rocket talking but it was only an echo of the past. Gamora took a sip from the cup then lowered it with a sigh.

"Thank you," Gamora said, weakly.

"You are welcome," Peter said, as the woman lowered it to her lap.

"Where is Jacklyn?"  Gamora asked, looking at her loved one in confusion.

"The unidog is buried in the backyard," Peter said. "remember? He died last week."

Gamora lowered her head feeling sadness spreading through her head down rather than up.

"I miss him," Gamora said.

"So do I," Peter said. "I'll check the guide to see what is on tonight."

Gamora watched the youthful man leave.

"I love you, Peter," Gamora said.

"I love you more," Peter replied.

Gamora slightly smiled then wheeled her way out of the green house to the backyard.

Peter realized, years, after the defeat of Ego the living planet, that he wasn't aging.

Turns out, being a celestial meant you were not dependent on the parent to have powers, but his powers were rather slowly growing. He was skilled at it. Millions of years ahead of him. The possibility of shape shifting into another species. He looked over at the photos of Gamora and himself and the family aging on the desk. The family growing larger and larger by the photograph. The Avengers had insisted they take a family photograph with Steve Rogers inbetween the arms of Thor and Bucky whose arms were on his shoulders while Loki's arms were hooked around Tony Stark. The whole lot of them were captured in the photograph. Even Bruce and Natasha. He had made peace with his immortality.

Peter picked up the guide to see what was on this week.

"Hmm," Peter said. "I love Lucy, Small Wonders, Star Trek: The Original Series, Gunsmoke, The Mary Tyler Moore show, The Three Stooges: classics, and The X-Files: Classics." he raised an eyebrow at the last part. "Why did Earth make a show about a man and his exes?" his eyebrows were hunched together in confusion. "All right, I have been avoiding this, I have to give it a try since it is a classic."

Peter heard the sound of a glass shattering against the pavement.

"Gamora?" Peter dropped the guide. _No._ "Gamora?" He rushed after the woman. _No!_ "Gamora!"

We see his figure vanish from the door

"Gamora!" Peter shouted. "Please, no, no, no,no--" He picked the lifeless green body into his arms. "Please, wake up, Gamora," He tried to jolt her awake parting the bangs away from her aged wrinkled cheeks. "No."

He was alone, again.

* * *

Leaving the Ravagers, going out on his own, and meeting the crew who would become his family through means that was unconventional could not be replicated. The planet was beautiful. Just sea as the eye to see. He had been hiding it and working on his free time to make a paradise full of eighty's references. One that someday could hold life and he wouldn't be alone. When he felt ready to make a elevated surface, that is. There was great pain in his heart. A pain that was dying down by day. His heart was still healing. Peter took the time to watch the lives of his little marine life after creating the basic layers of crust. Peter felt heavy. inclined to the ground, and tired just all the damn time. He was not going to turn out like his father.

No, not on his watch.

This was his special place.

Peter wasn't going to go and turn every planet into his own.

 One day, Dax came to visit.

"Peter," Dax said.

Peter apparated in a blue phase of light.

"Dax!" Peter said, approaching the man. "How's Mantis?"

"She has passed," Dax said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Peter said.

"I did not mean that way,"  Dax said. "she passed her pilot exam."

"Congratulations!" Peter said, with a beaming smile. 

"Thank you," Dax said, nodding his head. "and how have you been fairing?"

"I have been. . ." Peter turned toward the sea of ocean. "I am still thinking about the elevated surface." Dax looked at the man in sympathy.

"You need a hug," Dax said, then he brought the celestial into a warn, hard hug.

Peter closed his eyes clenching onto the gray, muscular but tough man. It started to rain upon the planet. It had been three months since Gamora's passing and the pain that he felt for that loss was hard on him. He was angry at the universe for taking her away from him. He was angry his father for being a huge dick. If his father was Yondu and Meredith was still alive, he would be dead by now. The greatest asshole in the galaxy was dead but he was still alive. Tears streaked down Peter's pink, Caucasian cheeks as his shoulders went up and down.  The rain beat against the shirtless grayed tattooed alien's skin. The rain eventually died as the hug ended.

"You need to leave this planet," Dax said.

"You know the last time I did when I was this way I destroyed a bar," Peter reminded him.

Dax deadpanned back at the human.

"That was a hundred two years ago," Dax said. "time's change. That was the loss of Rocket. This is the loss of your mate."

"All right. . ." Peter said.

"Do you want to take anything?" Dax asked.

"No," Peter said. "I got it all here in my head. . ."  he tapped on the side of his head.

"Come into my ship," Dax said, gesturing into the ship.

Peter came into the ship to see it was comfy and cozy yet rounded with a flare of hot pink fabric covering the entire surface.

"Since when did you get a pink starship?" Peter asked, coming into the ship completely. He shapeshifted into a shorter version of himself to fit into the ship while Dax had himself lowered  down to knee level.

"It is nice," Dax said. "and very comforting."

"The last time I was in a ship you had, it was dark gray, " Peter said.

"Yes," Dax said.

"Come on, big guy, did something happen that I don't know about?" Peter asked, raising a red brow.

"Not at all," Dax made it to the cock pit. "I thought it needed a new look. Mantis finds it nice."

"You did it for Mantis," Peter sat down into a comfortable couch. 

"No," Dax said. Peter felt something sharp underneath his butt.  "I needed something new," He dug around to feel the shape of hard, sharp crystals. He felt around to the floor. "and distracting from the jumps. The jumps make pink sparkle."

"What the hell did you steal?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," Dax said.

"All right," Peter said, then he shrunk himself down. He moved, painstakingly the crystals to different directions deliberately through a small hole in the couch as a rat. Peter, the rat, popped right out onto the couch. He became a short version of himself and sat comfortably onto the chair.  "How have you been?"

"I have been satisfied with the recent mission," Dax said, as the ship began to prepare its jump.

Peter raised an eyebrow.  
  
"That's not really an answer," Peter said.    
  
"Mantis is in the process of adopting more of her kind," Dax said.  
  
 "You and Mantis are together?" Peter asked, baffled.  
  
"No, not really, how can we be together when we physically don't like each other?" Dax asked, baffled.  
  
 "Stranger things have happened, big man, " Peter said.  
  
 "Like you making a planet without telling us,"  Dax said.  
  
Peter sighed.  
  
"It was for fun and back then it was just a flying bowl of lava," Peter replied. "I have plenty of sharks roaming around underneath. Including sponges. Jellyfish. Fish, coral, muscles---"  
  
 "Planets don't have muscles," Dax said.  
  
"I didn't mean it that way, I meant, . . . it's a organism thingy that hide  in shells. Like a snail and a crab," Peter said. "How many is Mantis adopting anyway?"  
  
"Thirteen," Dax said. "All of them are seven."  
  
"Seven. . ." Peter said, with a whistle. "she is going to have her hands full."  
  
"That she is," Dax said.  
  
"Are you co-parenting?" Peter asked.  
   
"No, we are not," Dax said. "We just work together for some 'missions'."  
  
"Uh huh, 'Missions'," Peter said. "you are being her big brother and making sure the children are coming from a legit source."  
  
"That does not relate to our missions," Dax said.  
  
"You still have your daggers," Peter said.  
  
"Yes," Dax said.  
  
"You are a bodyguard, a assassin, a bounty hunter, and oh, you are a self defense instructor when you are planetside," Peter guessed. He noticed the well strapped down guns on the wall, and a holographic award for becoming a registered professional for self defense and be a galactic mentor.  
  
"Those are proudful occupations," Dax said.  
  
Peter smiled.  
  
"How many times did you save the galaxy while we've split up?" Peter asked.  
  
"Three," Dax said. "we stumbled into them all. . . The new group is so. . "  
  
"Against everything that we did?" Peter asked.  
  
"Yes," Dax said. "and rude and disrespectful."  
  
"What do you expect?" Peter put his hands behind his neck with a whistle. "they are kids."  
  
"Teenagers in my culture respect their elders properly," Dax said. "these. . ." he shook his head. "they do everything wrong."  
  
"But they do it right enough that you're still here,"  Peter said.  
  
"Yes," Dax said.  
  
"Admit it, you kind of admire them and you like them," Peter said.  
  
"They nearly get themselves killed," Dax said. "one day I won't be able to drag their asses out of it."  
  
"So did we," Peter said. "remember?"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"I do. . . but I never had to come to you and  Gamora's rescue," Dax said.  
  
"Point taken," Peter said.  
  
 "Hold on!" Dax warned.

The ship made its jump. The inside of the ship shined brightly making a disco like scenery with various shades of pink. Peter noticed the couch itself was glowing a shade of purple as though the jump had activated something within them. There was a comforting, rested aura emitting out of the couch encompassing the entire room that made the occupants feel relaxed. The ship not the size of a airplane but more of a cramped van for the celestial. The ship finished the jump arriving to a large planet with light blue glows emitting from the dark side of it that had gently floating satellites in the air. The atmosphere inside the room faded. There was a large mother ship leaving the planet. Dax hid behind a moon watching it go. He looked at it with caution then sent the ship-van onwards.

* * *

The bar that he was taken to by his old friend was highly active. There was familiar music playing in the room that was lit up in different colors. There were curled, red chairs that were otherwise occupied by alien like figures who bore resemblance to humans. He saw green skinned women with wild red, curled hair and in very revealing garments that had small bells to the side making little chimes. There were dancers using a pole where in the stands sat men and women holding out card like items. The atmosphere felt alive to the celestial. Dax made Peter sit down at a table with his firm hand then brought over a waitress speaking in their language gesturing over toward  Peter. The  waitress smiled, with golden teeth glinting back at him, with a large build to her body. She was mostly dressed compared to the dancers.  
  
"Ayusu," The waitress said, then she came over and held her hand out. "Hello, Sir Petrie."  
  
 "Pee-ter," Dax said.  
  
 "Peter," the waitress said, shaking the man's hand. "Daxi pah-lau."  
  
Peter looked over quizically toward the man with a pleased smile on his face.  
  
 "I never heard that language," Peter said.  
  
"She just said your name is lovely," Dax said. "I like the regular order."  
  
 "Ip queue!" She pinched the side of his cheeks. "Taur kaling."  She released the side of his cheek then slid the padd onto the desk.  
  
"And she just babied me," Dax said. "I'll be at the regular table."  
  
He drifted off from the woman.  
  
"Uhhhh. . ." Peter glanced on the language on the padd. "Burbuuun Shots?" He glanced up toward the woman. She had lighter green skin than the rest of the people. He could see there were others with pointy ears and long hair that ranged in style. "Please?" He shrugged. "I didn't bring credits."  
  
 "Tu-maj kal fu," the waitress held her hand up.  
  
"Ah, I understand that," Peter said, his eyes lightening up. "taken care of," he glanced on the menu once more. "Uhhhh. . ." he squinted his eyes. "Tukou?"  
  
"Tokul," the waitress jotted down on the screen. Shit, he didn't know what he ordered.  
  
"Uhh, Lettuice Demajo?" Peter said.  
  
Her eyes lit up.  
  
"Aye," the waitress said.  
  
"And oh, peeep-si," Peter said, looking around for Dax to send a glare at. Because why didn't Dax take him to a strip club with English speakers and a easy language that was widely known?  
  
The waitress nodded then left. Just because he was a celestial did not mean he could not the language on the screen or understand every language that he came across. Most people in the galaxy spoke English. Second universal language that had to be spoken below their native language. He was fortunate that the ravagers were primarily English speakers. It was odd that everywhere he went there was English speakers, that, or they had on universal translators and he had to learn what languages that Yondu set upon him. And he missed his family, the Ravagers, and the one that was slowly falling apart. Groot could live for the next thousands of years but he wouldn't live forever.  
  
Minutes later a drink landed on his table.  
  
Another waitress with pointy ears and green skin.  
  
"Welcome to the Palace Casino!" the second waitress said.  
  
"Ah, English!"  Peter said. "what is the lettuice demajo?"  
  
"Taco salad with chips and spicy tomato," the second waitress said.  
  
"And tokul?" Peter asked.  
  
"Hot peppers,"  the second waitress said.

His eyebrows raised and his eyes were wide open.  
  
"They have hot peppers in space now?" Peter asked, startled but overjoyed.  
  
"Earth has gained contact with the Kazororian, my species," the second waitress said. "it has been spreading like wildfire in this sector." She looked at him, strangely, then straightened her head. "Are you?. . . "  
  
"Quill, Peter Quill," Peter said. "my friend is trying to cheer me up so he brought me here."    
  
The waitresses jaw slightly fell.  
  
"The one who has saved the galaxy and time itself. . ." the second waitress stopped. "Oh my stars. Pardon me, and enjoy your drink. The main attraction will be starting shortly." Her fingers grazed his shoulder and she was struck by the feelings of heartache and grief but a little pond of comfort that eased him. It wasn't mental but otherwise emotional keeping him grounded and sane. She drifted her hand off his shoulder then made her way from the man.

Peter waited for the attraction to begin. The stage lit up and there was loud voices in the room. A odd, short unshaven man sat down alongside Peter panting and sweat was dripping down the man's skin. Peter recognized a amateur thief when he saw  one. He saw there was something hiding in the man's shirt. He zipped his black jacket up glancing over toward the man with curled, wet dark hair. He looked as though someone had got him high with those dilated eyes. The man had short hair. The dark curled man looked over toward Peter then drank all the coke from the glass dropping it.  
  
 "Advice," Peter said, sliding the empty cup from the man. "don't be so obvious that you are in the run by trembling especially when you are in crowded places. Makes it easier to be caught." Peter explained ,the man's eyes landed on him. Peter took off his red jacket and placed it on the back end of his chair.  He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.  
  
 "Speak Terran?"  The dark curled man nodded.  
  
"Peter Quill, friendly celestial whose brain is not in a planet." He smiled as the security started to come in. "Former member of the second guardians of the galaxy. You?"  
  
 "I-i-i-i-i I'm not part of anything," the dark curled man denied.  
  
 "Wow," Peter said. "and this is your first?"  
  
"I had to!" the dark curled man said.  
  
"My first one I didn't get caught," Peter said. "well, the fifth, I was caught in the act," he paused, thoughtfully, sadly at a fond memory that crossed his mind as the dark curled man looked over his shoulder. Peter steaded the man with his two hands making him sit down calmly.  
  
"I am being set up," Peter looked over toward the empty glass then toward the man with a concerned expression on his face that looked darker thanks to the lights. "I am not kidding."  
  
 "I wasn't going to say you were," Peter said. "bad people want you dead or do the good people want you dead?"  
  
 "'Everyone wants me dead," the dark curled man said. "I have it."  
  
"Ego?" Peter said. "yes, we all got that. I knew someone whose ego was so big it crushed them. Actually, it blew them up. And then there was this praying mantis man whose ego got himself crushed, literally, all because he wanted to take the eggs of a lady bug like civilization. Nice people, totally easy to steal from."  
  
 "The Chandeliers?" the dark curled man repeated, baffled.  
  
Peter nodded as the security team went past them.  
  
"I mean I never met gullible people like them," Peter went on. "Rocket stole a bunch of extremely rare wings and we sold them on the market," he gave a thumbs up at the alien man. "Caught a fairly high price. Relic of their former, dark dick ass emperor who is rotting in some form of hell on their planet."  
  
"Wait, that one,"  the dark curled man said, his eyes slightly widening.  
  
 "Yep, that one," Peter nodded.  
  
 "But that is difficult to even get let alone steal," the dark curled man said.  
  
 "In the hands of its new owner, of course it is," Peter said.  "Rocket would steal it right back if he were still around."

"You are the one,"  the dark curled man said. He cleared his throat. "Do you know the new guardians?"  
  
 "Not really," Peter said. "I have been planet side most of the time." _Gamora._  
  
 "Oh, sorry about that," the dark curled man said, taking something out of his jacket then dropped it into the man's lap. "I think you can do better with this than I can."  
  
Peter looked down to see a golden chain in his lap. He slowly picked it up and felt the engravements on both sides with elevated surfaces. It was rounded with movable parts to it. He started to looked over his shoulder to talk with the man but the man was gone. The two servings were placed onto his table and it smelled good. He placed the object into his pocket seeing a fleet of security officers running toward the back entrance. He looked up to see a stark naked four breast woman come out. She didn't have the womanly extremities but it could be forgiven due to her beauty and grace. She lifted fabric seemingly out of no where briefly masking her face with it as it was wrapped around her arms. She had curled blonde hair, light blue skin, and cybernetic like eyes. That was new. How long had he been living with the ailing Gamora planet side anyway?  
  
He didn't watch the news too often as he felt the heat in his face rise up and his arousal spike.

The seat was right in front of the stage as the exotic, muscular woman made her way toward him. Dax was making heart eyes in the general direction of the woman who had a body built like him. She wasn't too thin, she didn't  have a hour glass build, and yet otherwise appeared to dead set gorgeous. She had piercings poking from her goblin shaped ears that were poking out from the side of her head. He could see her rounded, juicy ass as she turned away. He was at a club with a unconventional attraction. She covered her breasts with the fine, almost see through fabric as her breasts jiggled. She began to sing. It was more of an opera than anything else as she approached the side. It began with gentle, crystal singing then increased and became higher, dramatically, while stroking the sides of the women's faces along the stage. Her voice lowered, sadly, coming over to the celestial. She reached her hand out toward his cheek slightly lowering her beautiful singing voice feeling the side of his face softly. Peter felt emotionally relating to the song. He could see her small, rounded breasts sticking out partially covered by the fabric.

The singer lifted herself up.

Peter thought back to the last time that Gamora could walk.

The old woman resting her head against his chest and their hips swaying together in synchronization. They stopped having active nights together when she grew very frail and he was terrified of hurting the woman. She wasn't capable of going at it as she used to be. Peter remembered that night very vividly. Romantic music was playing as he smelled her hair and felt warm inside. It made him warm inside still to recall the memory. There were lit candles about the room that didn't have lights on for the sake of romance. One hand on her aged, wide hips and the other hand held her green hand with great care. She was happy. The temperature was down to a cool one to match the temperature of a planet they had been on many years ago. Watching the wildlife of a certain planet come to life namely the flowers, the trees, and the flying frogs with wings. A smile grew on the man's face with comfort stirring through him. The voice to the singer raised up in the tones of joy.

The pain in his chest had softened from Gamora's passing.  
  
 But the void was still there.  
  
The celestial sighed, looking over toward the direction of Dax while taking a bite out of his dish. Peter and Gamora adopted, but never had actual children of their own. Peter did not want to doom his off spring to a life of loneliness and heartbreak. He never wanted them to face it. They adopted two blue children with bright green eyes  and raised them by hand. The last that Peter heard was that they were at a minery and pulling shit. He hadn't heard from them in a few years. Dax looked intent on the moving, well made figure with his hands underneath his chin. Dax had a frown. He didn't like dancing. But he was making this an exception for his sad friend. A part of Peter felt that the two adopted children were dead. It had to be. That's why he hadn't gotten any live chats from them.  Their names were Tachun and Urlock.  Names that the children picked themselves  (Peter made too many puns with the kids names for his own good).

He took another bite out of his salad.  
  
Then a pepper.  
  
His face turned a shade of red then he grabbed a glass of pepsi and gulped it down. Peter fanned his tongue that was sticking halfway out swollen and red. He dipped a touch of pepsi onto it. He leaned back into the chair feeling his tongue cooling down. The celestial relaxed into the chair. He glanced over to see Dax lead astray by a woman with a muscular build partially colored from his seat. She wore an eyepatch to her right eye with one hand under his chin. The two vanished through another door. Peter took another piece of red pepper out then took a small bite out of it. It tasted bitter and spicy but not as hot as the first bite. He scowled then resumed eating his lettuce. Peter heard a familiar, but bitter voice from the back of his head. An echo from an earlier conversation regarding eating chicken with hot saucer and hot peppers. He continued this method of eating until there was the sound of what was a body landing on the floor. Peter looked up to see that there were several women who seemed to be buff and athletic walking through the doorway.

The security team was no where in sight.

Why is it that when you need them the most, they are not there?

Peter stood up from the half empty bowl. He picked up his gun from the side of his belt wrapping his fingers around the handle then his index finger wrapped on the trigger. He fired at the leading woman hitting at the shoulder knocking her to the ground. The other women behind her raised their guns in his direction. Peter speeded past  the table as the shots began to strike the table. Dax hid under a table where Peter met up with him firing back at least five tables away from the women.  
  
"Say--" Peter shot. "---what---" He reached his head out to get a better look. "--did--"  he ducked. "---you do, old man?" Peter looked toward the wrinkled, but otherwise athletic like man with a stomach.  
  
"It has certainly punched me," Dax said.

"Tell me you haven't pissed off everyone you meet after we split up," Peter said, ducking back with a look of disbelief.

 "I have," Dax admitted.  
  
"Oh for petes sake," Peter said, firing back at the hunters.  
  
"I will get the ship ready,"  Dax said.  
  
Peter reached his hand out grabbing Dax by the shoulder.  
  
"Go out the emergency exit," Peter said. "and try not to die on me, will you?" his voice cracked emotionally at the last part. _I can't lose another of my family so soon_ , Peter finished in his thoughts as he realized what had just came out of his mouth.  
  
"Death has not come knocking on my ship, Peter," Dax reminded him, as the man's grip loosened. "Sorry for how this turned out."  
  
"It's fine," Peter said."I liked the performance." he released his grip on the man's shoulder.  
  
Dax darted and Peter took care of the man's six.

* * *

"Has he come to?" Gamora asked, coming to the raccoon's side.  
  
Rocket looked over, his ears lowered, and a generally unhappy expression on his face.  
  
"Not since he came out of the medical pod," Rocket said. He sighed. "I swear, that kid has gotten a new found death wish."  
  
She looked over toward the resting man on the bed.  
  
"It was an accident," Gamora said. "he wasn't supposed to be the enemy when the building was  rigged to explode," she reached her hand out toward the furry, small raccoon's slender shoulder. "you couldn't have known."  
  
"Tell that to Dax," Rocket said.    
  
"I am Groot," Groot said, with his head lowered.  
  
"He would have gone for the Xenu anyway," Rocket said. ". . . which I don't how it managed to survive with what he was in," Rocket looked down toward the small, yet almost thin device that was turned off laid in his small claws. "it's metal after all."  
  
"It's a matter of mortality and durability," Gamora said. "sometimes both survive the impossible."  
  
Rocket looked over with a raised eyebrow like structure.  
  
"No celestial having to do with it?" Rocket asked. "Just pure, mythical luck?"  
  
Gamora took her hand off his shoulder.  
  
"Yes," Gamora said, looking over toward Peter's body.  
  
Rocket's brow lowered as he looked toward the man.  
  
"One of us should have gone after him," Rocket said. "he forgets at the wrong time. . ."  he sighed, fighting back the urge to cry. "if  he never wakes up. . . If he ever wakes up . . if he does wake up. . . " the raccoon cleared his throat. "does he have a will?" his voice grew small.  
  
"No," Gamora said.  
  
"I am Groot," Groot said, wrapping his arms around  Rocket's shoulder while burying his head into the raccoon's fur.

"Are you sure this machine fixed his head injuries?" Gamora asked.  
  
"Pretty sure about it," Rocket said.  
  
Rocket sighed as his shoulders lowered and Gamora left.  
  
"He could be in a coma," Rocket continued. "and I bought it."

"I am Groot," Groot said, leaning back from the critter's shoulder. 

"I bought it over a highly elite, fresh and off the rails medical pod because it could have a tracker on it and some glitches. There hasn't been any news about it. These pods malfunction ALL THE TIME," he shook his clawed hand side ways frantically as his voice quickened. "and they _do_ work, just with some glitches, like new personality, memory loss, double personality, seizures, long  term hallucinations, improvement in the brain, maybe being psychic a little, and dissociation."  
  
"I am Groot," Groot said, looking at his friend in concern.  
  
"No, I  am not okay,"  Rocket said. "not when we nearly lost the kid to a planet, a infinity stone, and oh, a explosion! All of this, in two months!"

"I am Groot," Groot said.

"He is not half celestial anymore," Rocket said.

Groot stared a his friend.

"I am Groot," Groot said, hands placed onto his waist. "I am Groot."

"There are a low percentage of patients falling into a Sleeping Beauty coma," Rocket said. "and that would be cheesey to wake him up by a fricken kiss."

"I am Groot," Groot said.

"We are not in a Disney movie," Rocket reminded. "he's Peter--fricken--Quill! And never waking up," the small critter was trembling as his whispers lowered. "He's gone and he has rubbed off on me. And he didn't hear it," his head lowered. "I should have gotten the new one!" He smacked his fist onto the side of the opened medical pod.

"I am  Groot," Groot said, placing his fingers around the sharp claws to Rocket.  
  
Rocket briefly closed his eyes and a tear came down his fur and shook his head.  Rocket cared too much about his friends. Not that he would ever admit it. Yondu had easily observed and said one of the man's personal fears to the raccoon's face. He could not be that much of a open book to people like him. Now could he? Rocket's eyes opened to see the man's index finger twitch. The first sign of movement that they hadn't seen in hours. It was a side effect of being in a coma. Involuntary movement. Or it could be a sign of regaining consciousness.  
  
"I am Groot!" Groot argued.  
  
"I know, I saw it," Rocket said. "people in coma's do this all the time."  
  
"I am Groot!" Groot said.  
  
"Hey, that client was not faking and it was his son," Rocket said. "I was in there a hell lot longer than you!"  
  
"I am Groot," Groot folded his arms with a nod of his head.  
  
"I am just saying we shouldn't put our hopes up," Rocket said. "because then the crash landing is just a lot worse." Rocket looked at the screen across from the biobed to see the heart rate was changing. "And he is dreaming of sex," he rolled an eye. He looked upon the resting red head. "jokes aside. . . Peter, please, _wake up_."

* * *

Peter's eyes slowly opened hearing the beeps of devices. He looked over to see across from him was Rocket resting in a chair curled in a ball with Groot resting on him. Mantis was in a chair across from them with her antennas lowered and her small, fragile like hands laid on her lap in the short sleeved uniform that  was option-able to wear as a member. Confusion went through his mind feeling dazed. His mind reeling from the blast that he had endured acting as a shield for Urlock who turned out to be not-dead-at-all. Which was a plot  twist that he had not expected. His memories of what really happened earlier started to return.  The Xenu device that had slipped out of his pocket when leaving the facility. 

The explosion that he hadn't count on going on time (since it was a little glitchy). His eyes winced at the memory of the heat and pain striking his back knocking him down and his helmet getting cracked. He remembered being covered by a shit ton of rock. He remembered the air being clouded by dust. His arms felt weighed down by the heavy cement above him just ready to squash him. His vision getting blurry as he could see the faint outlines of rocks before him. Fog setting into his mind. The lethargic, weak feeling coursing through his entire being. His legs felt like they were on fire. That was then, and now, he felt none of that. So the voices of everyone else that he had heard was not a voice from the past. It was the voice of the now. The one that he had been missing out on.

Peter looked toward his hand.  
  
_Could this happen?_ Peter thought, _Or did I just have a very vivid nightmare?_  
  
He had to be sure. 

That he was as Ego had said what would happened if he had died. That he was a mortal. Peter could hear his heart race. The dream was a jump scare for him, terrified him, actually.  What was not a jump scare to the former ravager member was being a human. Just a ordinary, but perhaps awesome human saving the galaxy. He wanted to be a mortal. The long, lifetime dream reminded him all the reasons why he did not want to be a celestial.  Being a celestial was very lonely. Ego was not kidding.  As it turned out.  Peter's eyes looked toward his hand. And he focused on it, hard. And he almost swore that he had seen a tinge of blue coming from the center of his right hand.  
  
**The End.**


End file.
